Taking Chances
by kabensi
Summary: What happens in Vegas... Sequel to "Nothing Like Love to Pull You Up". RachelQuinn Femslash - Rated M for a reason.
1. Prologue

Prologue

_December 26th_

The front door clicked as it unlocked and Quinn nudged it open wither her foot, her suitcase in one hand, keys and purse in the other. She set the suitcase at the bottom of the stairs and dropped everything else on the small table in the entryway.

The security timer left had activated the hall and kitchen lights, but the entryway was dim and shadowy. She had the creeping sensation that someone was in the room with her. A hand slapped against her backside. Drawing from her self-defense instruction, she gripped the arm of the assailant, twisted and brought them to the ground, her knee in their back.

"Damn, Quinn! You didn't have to go all ninja on me."

"Puck?" She twisted the arm a little more.

"Ow! Yes!"

Quinn released her grip. "What the fuck are you doing in my house?" She moved into the living room and switched on a table lamp.

Puck followed. "Hey, hey. If I'm allowed to drop f-bombs around Mini-Q, neither are you."

"She's not here, she still in Connecticut. So, I repeat, what the fuck are you doing in my house?"

"I stopped over in Lima for belated Hanukkah with the fam, then thought I'd swing on up to Toledo to see my ladies."

Her eyes surveyed the room. A pizza box sat on the coffee table. "Just how long have you been here?"

"Few hours."

"How did you get in?" She leaned against the arm of the sofa.

"You're not very inventive about hiding your secret key. A giant ladybug? Who's gonna believe that's real?" By now, he'd wandered into the kitchen and stood in front of the open fridge. "Want a beer?"

"No. Actually, yes. Fine. Thank you."

Puck tossed her a beer, then jumped over the back of the couch and landed behind Quinn. "Man, that was some kung-fu grip you had on me. Just so you know, most home invasions don't include an ass smacking."

"You know, you and Rachel are both lucky I didn't mace you. Why people think it's funny to sneak up on women in the dark--"

"Wait, Rachel? Rachel Berry?"

"Yeah." She slid off the arm of the sofa and settled next to Puck.

"Rachel Berry attacked you in the dark?"

"Kind of. It was a surprise."

"Did she smack you on the ass?"

"No. She did not."

"Too bad."

"Shut up."

"How is the diva? Living large?"

"She's... fine." Quinn popped the top on the beer can. "I thought you were in California until the end of January."

"The label gave us a break for the holly holidays." Puck propped his feet up on the coffee table. "So, wait, what's this about Rachel? I thought you two fell out of touch or whatever."

"We did." Quinn kicked at his feet, knocking them onto the floor. "But we went to see Wicked and Maddy wanted to meet her after the show and we just... started to hang out."

"Oh." He took a sip of beer, then narrowed his eyes at her. "Wait a minute... you guys totally hooked up." It was matter of fact, the way he said it.

"Why would you come to that conclusion?"

"Oh my god, you did! I knew it. I knew the two of you were bumping bits back at McKinley."

"Okay, first off all, we were not 'bumping bits' at any point during high school and--"

"But you are now, right?"

"Can you stop being an asshole for five minutes?"

"What, you're hot, she's hot, I'm just being appreciative."

"You're a jerk."

"Oh, man, this is something serious."

"Not something you know a lot about."

"Hey, I'm serious about being here for you. Even when I'm not here."

It was true. Puck had proven not to be a Lima Loser from the beginning, despite his rough edges. After high school, his college band was signed to a major label and began to tour. He was on the road a lot, but he always made an effort to support Quinn whenever she'd let him, and even then it was only with things that directly affected Madison.

"You're right. That was a low blow."

"Plus, the kid's already got two fathers, she might as well have two mommies."

"Well, her dads tend to behave more like crazy uncles."

"Well..."

"What?"

"You can't just drop a bomb on me like this and not issue and details."

"The details are private."

"So, you were definitely naked together."

She thought about telling him to lay off. But this was Puck and even if he acted like the name immature mohawked jock she knew in high school, he was also a good friend and the father of her child. "Fine. Yes. We were definitely naked together."

"Finn totally owes me twenty bucks."

"You two had a bet going?"

"Oh, yeah. And there is no statute of limitations on girl on girl action."

"I cannot wait to see which of your delightful traits Madison will pick up."

"Hey, can I take her next weekend?"

"You'll have to work it out with Finn. That's one of his weekends. I think they were going to a Browns game. Maybe her two daddies can have a date." Puck was just staring at her. "What?"

"Sorry, I was just imagining it."

"The game?"

"The definitely naked together."

She punched him in the arm.

In the beginning, the biggest concern was always when they would next see each other. The commuter flight between New York and Toledo wasn't so bad, but they had to plan each and every visit around their schedules.

The easy part had been breaking the news to Madison. Telling a child that her mother was pursuing a relationship with her idol is hardly the worst news a parent has to break. Madison's biggest concern was whether or not Rachel could make it to at least one of her soccer playoff games and possibly sing the national anthem. She did, by the way, on both counts.

By the time February rolled around, they'd managed to see each other a half dozen times. Puck had imposed himself on the Fabray house through the first week of January, allowing Quinn feeling guilt-free when she asked him to stay with Madison while she flew to Manhattan for a couple days. When he headed back to California, it was Finn's turn for a weekend with the girl.

While Quinn had moved to Toledo shortly after high school, in an attempt to distance herself from the drama of her life in Lima, Finn had received a scholarship to Cleveland State University. After graduation, he'd joined the Cleveland Police Department. Through everything, he'd kept his promise to Quinn that he would take care of her daughter, but he was limited with the same restrictions Quinn gave Puck. She, herself, didn't want or need to be supported by either of them.

These rules of independence also applied Rachel. Even though she could easily support the three of them, Quinn wouldn't feel comfortable letting Rachel do that. And this impacted the decision about what the next step was in their relationship. If they were to move in together, they'd have to move out of Ohio to New York. That alone wasn't a big deal. Quinn wouldn't be sad to leave Ohio behind, but Finn was there and he deserved the chance to continue his relationship with Madison.

All of this was putting a damper on the newly ignited relationship between Quinn and Rachel. When the singer proposed that she take a hiatus from the stage, Quinn accused her of crazy talk.

"That's insane."

"Why?"

"You live for the stage."

"And you. And Maddy."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't."

But Quinn wouldn't stand for it. And they had yet to find a solution.

Rachel hoped that some time alone together, some real time alone, would give them a chance to figure things out.


	2. TakeOff

Take-Off

1

"Wow. That's great. Really... great."

"I hope this isn't the same tone of voice you use when you try to sell houses."

"Sorry. I'm excited. I really am. It's just another week without you, is all."

"Doesn't have to be."

"What, you mean go with you?"

"Yeah."

"Rach, I can't just pick up and leave for a week."

"You were just telling me when you were here that the market is slow right now."

"Madison still has to get to school."

"What if Finn took her?"

"Cleveland's over an hour and a half away."

"Maybe he has some vacation days he wants to use."

"Rachel." Quinn's tone carried no amusement. "What did you do?"

"He's totally willing to spend the week in Toledo. Excited, actually."

"You already made plans with him?"

"Quinn, he's totally okay with it. He already booked the hotel."

"What about me? You can't just start re-arranging my life!"

"I'm not--"

"If I wanted to be told what to do with my life I could have stayed in Lima and become my mother."

"Quinn--"

"You can't just decide what's next, all the time. Especially when it comes to my kid!"

"You're ta--"

"I have to pick up Maddy. I'll call you later." Quinn hung up the phone and dropped her hand to the kitchen counter. They'd never really argued like that before. Not over anything serious. She looked at the clock. Madison wasn't due to be out of school for another thirty minutes. Which Rachel probably knew. And, therefore, would know that Quinn totally just hung up on her, out of anger.

The phone rang, but it wasn't Rachel's assigned ringtone. It was Finn.

"Hello?"

"Hey!"

"Hi."

"Whoa, you sound bummed."

"It's nothing."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

"I just wanted to go over the plan--"

Quinn snapped at him in a way she hadn't since high school. "There isn't a plan!"

"What's your problem?"

"Rachel being a control freak is my problem."

"Ah."

"I don't know what she told you, but you don't need to come out here."

"I want to."

"Why, because Rachel told you to?"

"No, because I want to."

Silence. Then Quinn's voice became quiet. "I'm acting like a jerk, right?"

"A little bit."

"I should probably call her and apologize."

"Probably."

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"I didn't do anything."

"You've done plenty."

"Okay, then, you're welcome."

"And cancel those hotel reservations. You should stay here, at the house."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You're the best, Quinn."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

The conversation ended and she opened phone's recent calls screen. Rachel hadn't tried to call back. Quinn hoped she hadn't just ruined everything by freaking out on her. She sighed and tapped Rachel's number.

"You're right," came Rachel's voice as soon as the line picked up.

"What?"

"You're right. I'm a crazy person. I should have talked to you before making plans. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry."

"Okay, you realize we have to stop there or we'll be disgusting."

Quinn laughed. "Agreed. But I am. Sor-- er, apologetic for reacting like a bitch."

"I learned to deal with bitchy Quinn a long time ago."

"Yeah, that makes me feel better."

"We both have to accept that, once upon a time, you were a bitch and I was motivated and driven, yet borderline insane."

"They reward insanity, apparently, by giving it a Vegas show."

"Well, a one night engagement, anyway."

"Can I still come with you?"

"I don't know. A whole week in Vegas by myself could be interesting."

"You might find a niche with a celebrity tribute show and never return."

"You'd better come with me. We need to talk about things, anyway."

"When, over the craps table?"

"I was thinking roulette."

"I can't help it. Even though, statistically, the best advantage I would have is at blackjack. It's the only game where the player can control the game's outcome."

"I told you to stop watching those Travel Channel special before going to bed."

"I have to watch something. It's lonely here without you."

"Careful, we might be bordering on disgusting, again."

"I don't care. I miss you. And want you. In my bed."

"Aw, you don't like watching the Travel Channel alone?"

"Nope. Hey, you're going to be late getting Maddy if you don't leave, now."

"Control freak." But Quinn's tone was light, playful.

"You know, there are times you don't seem to mind my controlling side."

"That's just because I really like the Travel Channel."

"Go get your daughter."

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

-

On February 9th, Quinn caught a commuter flight to JFK, then found her way to Gate 23, where Rachel sat, reading the latest issue of Us Weekly.

"Any good gossip?"

Rachel flipped a page and pretended to read a headline. "Broadway star seen canoodling with hot blond MILF outside Vegas casino."

"Outside the casino? Didn't she have a room?"

"Maybe she likes adventure."

"Maybe she's obsessed with canoodling."

"And MILFs. Thought, technically, you're a MIAF."

"A what?"

"A mom I already am fu--"

_"Boarding will now begin for first class ticket holders for flight 227, non-stop to Las Vegas."_

Quinn blushed, even though the loudpeaker prevented anyone around them from hearing the rest of Rachel's sentence. She took the brunette's hand, pulled her up, and led her to the short line of first class travelers.

They made their way through the line and onto the plane. Once they were settled in their seats, Rachel rested her head on Quinn's shoulder.

"Wanna join the mile high club?" she whispered.

"We're not even off the ground, yet."

"I didn't mean right this second. That would just regular plane sex."

"You're awfully obsessed with sex, right now."

"So?"

"I'm not complaining."

"What about that time you were waiting in my dressing room to pounce on me the second I came off stage?"  
_  
__"Hey, you made it!" Rachel grinned at her girlfriend. "Just let me get this stu--"__  
__  
__Quinn had her pinned against the makeup table, her mouth on Rachel's, smearing green off of one face and onto another.__  
__  
__"Can I-- At least-- Take off--" the singer panted between kisses.__  
__  
__Wordlessly, Quinn spun Rachel around and unzipped the back of the black dress. She pulled it down off Rachel's shoulders, only to find a layer of green bodysuit underneath it. "What is this?"__  
__  
__"It's a bod--"__  
__  
__"I don't care what it is, take it off!" But Quinn didn't wait for Rachel to remove it and did the job herself.__  
__  
__The next thing Rachel knew, she was on her back on the dressing room sofa, her legs around Quinn's waist and Quinn's fingers buried inside her. By the end of it, they both needed a shower to get all the make up off._

"That was a special occasion. It happened to be our twenty-seven day anniversary."

"You're hot for me all the time."

"No more than you."

"Well, we are both very attractive."

"I could hold out, if I wanted to."

"Right."

"Hey, I was president of the Chastity Club."

"Yeah, back when you dated sweaty boys."

"Be nice!"

"I just think it would be harder now."

Quinn put her hand to her chest. "I am a strong person."

"And I'm a performer. I could hold out, too, you know."

"Are we making a bet, now?"

"Maybe. What's the winner get?"

"Can we define the bet, first?"

"Okay. I bet that while we're in Vegas, I can resist your sexual wiles longer than you can resist mine."

"What are the rules?"

"No sex. Duh."

"Define sex, Miss Smartypants."

"Oh. Um... okay, no direct stimulation below the belt. Inside or outside the clothes."

"Oh, you are so mine, Berry."

"Okay, well, what's the prize?"

"The pleasure of knowing I was right? Ow, you're pinching! Okay, loser has to sing the winner's choice of song at a karaoke bar."

To anyone listening, this probably sounded out of sync with the rest of the conversation, but Quinn knew Rachel hated karaoke. She insisted it bred faulty confidence and poor singing habits.

"Fine. Deal."

They shook on it. By now, the plane had climbed to cruising altitude and were free to roam about the cabin.

Quinn ran her hand over Rachel's knee. "But, um, this doesn't start until we get there, right?"

"Right."

She leaned in and whispered, "So... you wanna join the mile high club?"


	3. In Flight Entertainment

_**In-Flight Entertainment**_

2

While Quinn Fabray had done well enough for herself in the business of selling homes, she certainly wasn't rich. Because of this, she hadn't flown first class, very often, or at all, in her adult life. So, as she sat with Rachel snuggled up against her, she was very appreciative of the small partition that separated their seats from the rest of the cabin and prevented the other passengers from accidentally discovering what might be happening underneath the airline provided blanket that was spread over the two women.

Rachel wanted to sneak into the bathroom, but airline protocol was strict about more than one person in the lavatory at a time. She pouted for at least twenty minutes over this firmly enforced regulation. When Quinn requested a blanket from the attendant, Rachel had just about given up on their chances to get busy, mid-air. Her girlfriend, however, did not disappoint.

Quinn waited as Rachel switched on the small television screen and flipped through the limited channel selection. She eventually settled on HGTV, probably in hopes of picking up a new skill set. It amazed Quinn what Rachel absorbed from such programming and was not surprised to find out she'd re-tiled the bathroom floor or run the wiring for a brand new set of wall sconces. But this time, she didn't plan to let Rachel focus too much on the content of the program.

The blanket was big enough that it draped around them and almost hit the floor. Another perk of first class. Nothing was miniature. Not even the leg room. The seat actually reclined and created the small bed they reclined on now.

Rachel's head rested against her shoulder, both arms tucked up underneath her own chin, the edge of the blanked clutched in her hands. Quinn brought her left up and over, around Rachel's shoulders, and pulled her closer. The brunette draped one leg over Quinn's, just trying to get comfortable, and listened to the segment on the screen about crown molding.

She breath drew in sharply, as Quinn's fingers hooked in to her waistband, just above the fly of her jeans. She considered that the blond was just moving her, adjusting their weight to better her comfort, but then she felt the tug at the button, then the zipper. Her eyes slid over to read Quinn's face, which appeared to innocently be focused on the television. The fingers, however, traced down over satin underwear and circled the spot that was already beginning to throb. She couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips.

"Shhh."

This was the first acknowledgement Quinn gave that her upper, visible self knew exactly what was going on under the blanket. She kissed the top of Rachel's head as her hand now moved under the second waistband, and connected with the pure essence of Rachel. The brunette buried her face in Quinn's chest, stifling any sound that might try to make its way out of her mouth.

It was a fairly awkward position, even with the comforts of first class. If anything, it just made Rachel strive harder for release, discretely rocking her hips against Quinn's hand until her core began to quiver. At this, Quinn knew the best way to keep Rachel from shouting any climactic profanities was to kiss her, plain and simple. Even with her mouth covered, she was still making plenty of noise which probably wasn't really that loud, but seemed like it because they were both trying to keep quiet.

Finally, Rachel grabbed Quinn's wrist, the one under the blanket, and breathed, "If you don't stop, I can't promise I won't scream."

"You won't," was the reply. There was just one more thrust of movement before Rachel's eyes rolled back and her bottom lip clamped between her teeth and her thighs squeezed together, trapping Quinn's hand between them. But she certainly didn't scream.

When her breath steadied and her legs relaxed, she looked up at Quinn. "That was risky."

"That's the point."


	4. Landing

_**Landing**_

3

"She had to be on to us."

"She was just doing her job."

"It is not an attendant's job to hover over the passengers." Rachel checked, for the third time, to make sure her seat was in the full and upright position. "We paid for first class service, not Nosy Nancy."

"I thought the casino paid for the tickets?"

"They did. But Nosy doesn't know that."

Quinn took Rachel's hand and laced their fingers together. "Calm down. She didn't start coming around until after, anyway."

"But I didn't get a chance to take care of you."

"I'll be okay."

"But it's not fair."

"You're whining because you got laid and I didn't?"

"Yes!"

"You're nuts."

"It's only fair that we start this bet off on equal footing. Otherwise, I have an unfair advantage."

"I won't hold it against you."

"But I will! I want to win, fair and square."

Quinn glanced out the window at the approaching Vegas Strip. "Well, the bet begins once we're in Vegas, so you don't have much time."

"Does the airport count as Vegas?"

"It's in Vegas, yes."

"But, is it Vegas, Proper?"

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm just asking a question. Because, if it's not technically Vegas, the bet won't be in effect."

"You're suggesting the airport's a neutral zone?"

"Yes."

Denying the expectant look on Rachel's face would have just been downright cruel. Also, she had a point. Currently, Quinn was at a disadvantage.

"Okay. But only in the interest of fairness."

"Oh, of course."

The second they were off the plane and in the terminal, Rachel practically dragged Quinn toward the nearest restroom, where she pretended to check her hair and make-up in the mirror until the coast was clear. She shoved the blond into the handicapped stall and locked the door.

"Here?"

Rachel's eyes were wide, telling her to be quiet. "Where else is there? The baggage claim?" she whispered.

Quinn shrugged and Rachel's lips were on hers, with one hand already tugging at the fly to her pants and then slipped right into her underwear without much warning. Quinn's hands gripped at Rachel's waist in an effort to steady herself.

Rachel's other hand had a firm grip on Quinn's shoulder, as if she was trying to hold her in place, to keep her from going anywhere. As if Quinn could walk away from this, Rachel's mouth on her neck, the palm of the hand not on Quinn's shoulder creating all the right friction while fingers dipped deep and then hard and then fast. This was not the time for slow and gentle.

Quinn's breath quickly became ragged, Rachel's upper hand instinctively clapped over the blonde's mouth. Her eyes were on Quinn's and, even before Quinn could think about clamping them shut, Rachel shook her head.

"I love you," she mouthed.

Quinn's hips bucked hard, her muffled moans reverberated against Rachel's hand, and her fingers dug tightly into Rachel's back. Finally, she reached up and flung the hand away from her face, leaned down and kissed the brunette, hard. Her body tensed and Rachel had to hold her upright until her breathing slowed.

"I love you, too," Quinn mumbled, unsure of how she even managed multiple coherent words.

Once she was sure her girlfriend was steady on her feet, Rachel peeked out the door and exited the stall. Quinn followed, after she'd put herself back together.

Rachel stood at the sink and looked at Quinn in the mirror. "You sure you want to leave the Neutral Zone?"

"Don't even try to get out of this."

"Who's trying to get out of it?"

"Not me."

"Not me, either."

"Good."

Rachel turned and planted a kiss on Quinn's lips, then grabbed her hand. As she trailed behind Rachel, Quinn took one last look at herself in the mirror and wondered why she would ever bet against giving in to this woman.


	5. Check In

_**Check-In**__**  
**__**  
**_4

"And, here are your room keys. If there is anything you need, Ms. Berry, just let us know. My name is Juliet and I will be happy to help you with anything you might need." The hostess handed Rachel two plastic key cards, smiled at her, and exited the suite.

Quinn was already somewhere in the depths of the hotel suite, examining all the amenities. The place was huge, bigger than Rachel's current New York apartment. And this wasn't even the largest of the suites offered by the hotel.

"Okay," Quinn emerged from the bedroom. "There is a spa tub in there that is absolutely magnificent. And roomy enough for two."

"You're going to have to try harder than that."

"What? It's just a bathtub. It doesn't have to be a sexy time."

"I've seen you naked. That makes for a pretty sexy time."

"See? You are always hot for me!"

"You're the one scoping out the suite for the top ten places to have hot sex within the first five minutes."

"I don't think we could have sex in all those places in five minutes."

"You know what I mean!"

"Although, if I were making a list," Quinn walked over toward the floor to ceiling curtains and pulled them open. "This would be on top."

Through the sliding glass doors was a terrace that looked out over the Strip.

"You would want to... have sex... out... there?" Rachel casually approached the window and peered out.

"Not right now." Quinn side-stepped so Rachel was between her and the glass.

"Sure. Of course, not right now."

Quinn's fingertips grazed up Rachel's back. "At night." She pulled the brunette's hair away from her neck and grazed her lips over Rachel's neck. "When the city's all lit up." Rachel's hands shot out to steady herself as Quinn nipped at her earlobe. "And there are a thousand people walking around down there."

"And we... would be..." Rachel cleared her throat. "Up. Here."

"Mmm hmm." Quinn's mouth was on her ear, her hands now positioned on either side of Rachel's waist. "Maybe on one of those deck chairs." She nipped, again. "Or that table." Another nip, this time on the spot just below the ear. "Or, if you're feeling really adventurous, up against that railing."

"Oh?" was all the verbal capability Rachel could manage at the moment.

And then, suddenly, Quinn was away from her, expressing interest in the floral arrangement that sat on the kitchenette counter. "Or, whatever."

Rachel exhaled and pushed herself away from the window, leaving two hand prints behind. "Maybe we should go check out the casino?"

"That could be fun."

"Yeah, fun." Rachel handed Quinn one of the room keys. She glanced back at the terrace. "All kinds of fun."

Quinn bit her lip to keep the smirk from surfacing. She could play this game. It was all about the power of suggestion. Just as long as she didn't think too hard about what she was suggesting.


	6. Color Up

_**Color Up**_

5

When Rachel suggested they go down to the casino, she figured it was a limited distraction, at best. She didn't expect that they would be caught up in the energy of the games, that they would both find such delight in things like video poker and Dukes of Hazzard slot machines.

They'd been randomly dropping small amounts of money here and there for over an hour when Rachel's eyes fell on The Wizard of Oz penny slots. She practically jumped into the seat and immediately slid a twenty dollar bill into the cash reader.

Convinced that Rachel would remain planted at the machine for a while, Quinn kissed her on the cheek and said, "I'm gonna go check out the table games."

"Okay, sure. I'll find you. Ooh! Bonus spin!" was the reply.

The next half hour was full of small wins that kept Rachel up enough to keep hitting the Max Bet button, until finally, she was down to her last spin. She punched the button one last time and watched the reels line up to reward her with another bonus game. This time, instead of a small win, it was a moderate one. Not a jackpot, but the final winnings amounted to two hundred and sixteen dollars, which she immediately cashed out and popped up from the seat with the ticket voucher in hand.

The table games were in the center of the massive casino, and it took a couple passes to find Quinn, but Rachel eventually did. She was sitting at a ten dollar blackjack table, with five other players.

"How's it going?" Rachel asked.

Quinn glanced back at her and smiled. "Not bad. How was the Wizard?"

"He was very good to me." She waved the voucher at Quinn.

"You must be lucky." Quinn waved her hand over her cards, signaling that she didn't want another.

"You're not gonna hit that twelve?"

"Nope."

The dealer revealed her cards, a sixteen. She took another card, as per house rules, and drew a nine. "Dealer busts," she said, and paid the table their winnings.

"I'll color up, thanks." Quinn pushed her stack of chips toward the dealer.

"Color coming in!" the woman called over her shoulder to the pit boss.

Rachel eyes the stacks of chips. "How much did you start with?"

"Fifty."

"And that's--"

"Three hundred," said the dealer, as she spread three black chips across the felt table, then passed them to Quinn.

Quinn smiled at the dealer and tossed a green twenty-five dollar chip back at her as a tip, then rose from the table.

"You just made three hundred bucks in a half an hour. Are you sure you want to leave?" Rachel asked, still a little shocked at the amount.

"Yeah." Quinn linked her arm in Rachel's and led her deeper into the casino. Once they were away from the tables, she said, "The table was getting cold, anyway."

"Wait, were you counting cards?"

"Maybe."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Just frowned upon. And one person alone can't really do any damage."

"How do you even know how to do that?"

"Brittany taught me."

"Brittany can count cards?" Rachel did not sound at all convinced.

Quinn shrugged. "Her uncle's a professional gambler or something."

"Brittany can't count regular, how can she count cards?"

"She's like Rain Man with some stuff. She can be really smart about things. Just not... regular things."

They stopped off at the cashier's cage to collect their winnings, then began to follow the signage toward the casino exit.

"So, you're a card shark. Anything else I don't know about you?"

"Let's see... I'm a single mother..."

"Knew that."

"I enjoy the musical stylings of early Madonna."

"Knew that, too."

"I'm currently involved with a very attractive and talented hottie."

"Oh, tell me more about her."

"But she's got kind of a big head."

"Do not!"

By the time they made their way to the doors out of the MGM Grand that led out onto the Vegas Strip, they'd already acquired a monstrous margarita in a souvenir cup shaped like a lion from one of many conveniently placed bars. The drink made for a pleasant and easy time-waster as they ambled down the street between the huge complexes.

As they walked, they passed several people passing out small cards and fliers. Rachel grabbed a handful and began to sort through them. They were all ads for call girls and each card had a different girl pictured with a name printed at the bottom. By now they were at least halfway through their beverage and Rachel, in particular, was greatly amused.

She waved the card at Quinn. "Look, here's Tiffany. She's on roller skates."

"Let me see." Quinn grabbed at it. "Do you think they really send someone on roller skates?"

"Dunno. Sounds dangerous. What if you got kicked in the face?"

"And what exactly would you be doing to get kicked in the face by Roller Skating Tiffany?"

"It was just a sample scenario."

"Right."

"You really wanna know?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

Rachel dropped the cards and pushed Quinn up against the railing that separated the sidewalk from the water feature in front of the Bellagio . "Well, first of all, it doesn't have to Tiffany. It really could be any attractive blond who just happens to strap on," she took a drink mid-sentence from the cup that Quinn was holding, "... a pair of roller skates." She bent down and picked the card back up. "And the knee socks. They're nice."

"I seem to remember that knee socks are... nice."

"I probably have a pair, still. Somewhere." Rachel gripped the railing on either side of Quinn. "Did you want to hear the rest of my story?"

"Story?"

"About the skates."

"Oh. Yes. Please." Quinn took a lengthy sip from the margarita.

"So, anyway, to recap: Skates, socks, hot blond. Sexy yet dangerous. How? Well, I happen to be blessed with many talents, including the gift of song and a very witty disposition." She leaned in an kissed Quinn's neck. "One might even say... " Another kiss, followed by the grazing of her tongue up toward Quinn's ear. "I'm good with my mouth."

"One... might..."

Rachel pulled back to continue her story. "So, for example, if I happened to encounter the aforementioned hot blond skating hottie--"

"In knee socks."

"In knee socks." Her fingers lightly traced down from Quinn's neck to her chest. "And one thing led to another... I could easily end up with her legs..." She walked her fingers back up, then draped her arms over the blond's shoulders. "Wrapped around my head..."

Quinn pulled Rachel in, her lips just barely out of reach. "... which puts those skates dangerously close to your face..."

"Dangerously." She closed the gap and kissed Quinn, heated and teasing.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to call up Tiffany."

"Too bad. I like a little danger." The brunette had her lip pinned between her teeth, her brown eyes full of lusty promise.

A crowd had gathered along the sidewalk and the pair realized that the Bellagio water show was about to begin. As the medley of Celine Dion songs pipe through the overhead speakers, Quinn had never quite been so grateful for the Canadian as she was right then.

Rachel was, of course, enraptured in the show, resisting the urge to sing along. She leaned back into Quinn as they watched the rise and fall of the waterworks.

The bet was fun. But this, just being here, together, was nice, too.


	7. Double Down

_**Double Down**_

7

Drink was actually drinks, plural. Since they were dressed up for the show, Quinn thought it might be fun to check out one of the Casino clubs, especially since Rachel had been granted VIP status to them, anyway. Even if her name hadn't been on the list, it didn't matter. The bouncer took one look at Rachel, in her little black dress and heels, hand in hand with Quinn, in a shimmery silver number with knee-high boots to match, and let them right in.

Maybe it was the three bottles of champagne that were sent over to their VIP booth by the handful of fans who recognized her, maybe it was an after-effect of the erotically charged show they'd just taken in that evening, maybe it was the multiple times a pair of over-cologned frat boys approached them; whatever the case, both women were having a hard time keeping their hands off each other.

At first, they were light touches, tucking back fallen strands of hair, adjusting a necklace, being overly intrigued by exactly what type of material a certain shimmery dress is made of. In a lot of ways, it was like a first date, flirtatious and testing, to see just how far things might go.

Quinn sat sideways in the booth, one elbow propped up on the seat back, her eyes on Rachel as she emptied out the second champagne bottle into their glasses. When the brunette turned to her, one glass in each hand, the blond moved forward without warning and kissed her. Quinn's hands were on either side of Rachel's face, her teeth and tongue teased and tugged at Rachel's bottom lip. There was a whimper that was drowned out but the sound of the music, but Quinn heard it, anyway. She pulled back and ran her thumb over Rachel's lips, then grabbed one of the glasses, winked at her girlfriend, and clinked the champagne flutes together.

Rachel emptied the glass without coming up for air, grabbed Quinn's hand, and headed for the dance floor.

"This is allowed, right?"

Quinn knew Rachel's mouth had to be right on her ear just so they could hear each other, but the warm breath and intimate vibration of it still made her shudder. "Yeah, sure. It's just dancing."

And it really was just dancing. Because, sometimes, dancing includes roving hands and varying degrees of bodily friction. Technically, they weren't breaking any rules of the bet, anyway. They were, however, making it increasingly more difficult on themselves to keep from breaking said rules.

After several songs, they found their way back to the booth and opened the third bottle.

"I'd like to raise a toast to..." Quinn squinted, as if searching for something meaningful, "Your boobs in that dress."

Rachel looked down. "They do look really great tonight."

"Really. Fucking. Great." Quinn's gaze was locked on the cleavage.

After exactly three sips, Rachel set the glass down. "Making out isn't against the rules, right?"

"Right."

"Good." She picked up Quinn's empty hand and placed it on the breasts the blond had just complimented.

When they finally came up for air, all the members of the bachelor party in the neighboring booth were watching in anticipation. There were a few cat calls and whistles.

Quinn pulled Rachel close. "You know, we have a very nice and private suite upstairs."

"We do. But you think we can be trusted to be alone together?"

"We're adults, I think we can handle it."

It wasn't the suite that proved to be a problem. It was the elevator. The second the doors shut, and the two were alone, lips and hands resumed what they'd stopped doing in the booth. This time, though, being upright and without company, things progressed until Rachel pulled back, her head leaning against the elevator wall.

"Hold on."

"What? What's wrong?"

"One of us just lost." She slightly shifted her thigh, to prove the point.

"Who loses? The one doing the touching?"

"You're the one straddling me."

"I didn't do it on purpose. And I didn't notice until you pointed it out."

"Oh, really? You didn't notice this?" Rachel moved her leg again, creating more pressure against Quinn.

"Well, I... notice it now... that you've pointed it out."

The elevator doors opened. Rachel hooked her arm through Quinn's and walked them toward their room. Meanwhile, Quinn was still trying to figure out who lost the bet.

Once they were inside the suite with the door locked, Rachel put her finger to the blond's lips. "Here's what I think. I think no one lost." She had Quinn trapped between herself and the door.

"But you said--"

"After careful evaluation, I've changed my mind." She kicked her heels off toward a far corner of the room.

"So, we're still on."

"Tomorrow."

"Okay." Quinn bent down to take off her boots, but Rachel pulled her back up against the door.

"Leave them on." Because she was the only one barefoot, the brunette had to stand on her toes to press her lips against the other woman's.

Then, there was a shimmery pile of silvery dress on the floor and Quinn had Rachel pinned up against the counter of the kitchenette, the black dress hiked up around her waist, Quinn's fingers trailing up her thighs.

"Wait, did I already take off..." Quinn glanced around, confused.

"Wasn't wearing any," came the nonchalant reply.

Quinn's bottom lip rolled between her own teeth as she let out a slight moan. Her hands grabbed Rachel's hips, pulled her close, and kissed her roughly, before dragging her lips down to leave a patch of bruised flesh on the brunette's chest.

Normally, Rachel would have complained about any visible marks, especially with a performance in the near future, but she was distracted by what was happening well below the hickey.

Quinn's hand was between Rachel's thighs, two fingers pushed deep inside, then slid out and added a third on return entry because Rachel was so wet and murmuring that she wanted more and she wanted it harder and her hips reiterated everything she said, even if the words came out more like unintelligible moans. And then she came hard against Quinn's hand and Quinn's free arm wrapped tightly around the back of the little black dress, and held her close and tight and secure while Rachel was entirely undone and her legs were weak and she couldn't stop that twitching sensation that rolled through her body every few seconds.

Somehow, Quinn managed to get them both to the sofa, where Rachel could lie down and catch her breath.

"Fuck."

Quinn brushed the hair out of Rachel's face. "I'm pretty sure that's what I just did."

Rachel traced her fingers along Quinn's bare stomach. "I should have figured. You are dressed like some kind of sex bot from a spy movie." She tugged at the strap to the silver bra that coordinated with the panties and the boots she still had on.

"I always wondered something."

"What?"

"Who sexes the sex bots?"

"Members of a very elite team."

"Oh. You know any?"

"You happen to be in luck." Rachel rolled off the edge of the sofa and dropped to her knees.

"Something tells me I'm about to get even luckier."

It took about four seconds for Rachel to relieve Quinn of the rest of her ensemble. Except for the boots. She was, once again, adamant they stay on. Even when they were locked around her waist as she kissed Quinn, deep and sincere with more than a hint of lust. Even when they slipped up a little higher, around her back, as she exacted her revenge against Quinn for leaving visual evidence of their intimacy on her skin. Even when they were draped over her shoulders as she worked her tongue over and around and back again while Quinn's fingers tangled in her hair and the backs of the boot heels pressed hard against Rachel's back.

When Quinn's voice dropped to an especially deep moan, Rachel complemented her oral efforts with the addition of the two fingers that worked their way into the blond. Quinn felt her stomach tighten and she couldn't stop the whine that came out of her each time Rachel pushed into her. And then she was pulling Rachel up, closer to her, legs closed tight, boots crossed, body pulsing with waves of release.

Quinn muttered something against Rachel's shoulder.

"What?"

"I said, I love you."

"That's funny, because it sounded like you said, you've never gotten fucked with boots on, before."

"I would never say that. And you have a very dirty mouth when you're drunk in Vegas."

"Considering what I was just doing, you're in no position to criticize my mouth."

"I happen to like your dirty mouth, thanks."

"Well, you remember that tomorrow, when the bet's back on."

"Why is that a good idea, again?"

"You could always just forfeit and declare me the winner."

"Not on your life, Berry."

"That's what I thought."


	8. Raising the Stakes

_**Raising the Stakes**_

8

The morning after their lapse in the bet, they awoke as a tangle of legs and arms and sheets facing entirely the wrong way on the bed. Quinn was the first to attempt the daunting task of actually moving, and when she did she groaned at the pain in her head.

"S'matter?" croaked Rachel, who had her head buried under a pillow.

"I might be hungover." She pressed her hands to her face and willed herself to sit up.

"Lightweight."

Quinn yanked away the pillow Rachel was hiding under. "You're the one who got me drunk."

Rachel tried to burrow under the sheet, but it was twisted around the both of them. "Me? You're the one who kept making toasts."

"Mmm, toast."

"You can't possibly that hungover if you're thinking about food."

"I'm also thinking about how you're going to go and get it for me."

Rachel rolled away from her. "I think you must still be asleep because you're dreaming."

"That's fine, then. Because if I'm dreaming, I can still do this." She scooted up behind Rachel and draped an arm over her side, then let her hand trail down past her stomach.

"Still do wha-- Oh." Rachel leaned back into Quinn and allowed her legs to fall open, just enough to the blond could get a better angle and increased leverage, both which really required too much thought for Rachel to process at the moment. She was still shrouded in the haze of sleep and now Quinn's fingers were doing that thing they did that made Rachel forget her own name, sometimes. She reached back and grabbed the blond's thigh as she rocked her hips against Quinn's hand. This time, the climax was quieter and less of an event as it had been out in the other room. Quinn left kisses between Rachel's shoulder blades before working her way out of the sheets.

Rachel reached out and tried to grab her hand. "Where are you going?"

"Gonna take a shower."

"You're just gonna love me and leave me? Then you have the unfair advantage, again."

Quinn shrugged. "Rules are rules. And the bet's back on as of right now."

"You are a horrible evil person."

"Then it should be easy enough for you to resist me. If you need me, I'll be in the hot wet shower."

Rachel groaned, pulled the pillow back over her head, and plotted her revenge.

The bulk of the day passed quickly enough, Rachel had another meeting with the entertainment staff, and a tech rehearsal. Quinn wasn't allowed to see the show until the night of the performance, so she spent some time checking out the neighboring casinos.

When Rachel met her back in the room, she had several shopping bags in her arms. Quinn was taking a break from the tables and was currently flung across the sofa watching an old Goldie Hawn movie. She sat up when she saw Rachel's arms were full.

"You went shopping?"

"Um, yeah?"

"For what? I would have gone, too."

"Maybe I was shopping for you."

"Why?"

"Uh, because Valentine's day is two days away?"

"It is?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, because I'd forget that. Especially while we're here so you can headline a show titled 'Berry Much In Love on Valentine's Day'." She reached out to help with the bags, but Rachel kept a tight grip on them.

"I just want you to know, once you look in these bags, you're going to wish you hadn't."

Quinn cocked her head, now extremely curious about what her girlfriend was up to. She grabbed one of the bags and, this time, Rachel let go. It was a regular paper shopping bag with a handle, like the kind you'd get at any boutique, but whatever was inside was kind of heavy. And Rachel had three more bags just like the first one. Quinn opened the back and looked down into it, then looked back up at Rachel.

The brunette's face was blank, but her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well, Quinn?"

"Are all those full of the same..."

Rachel nodded, then pushed past Quinn and set the other bags on the coffee table. "Well, actually, not the exact same. There's a healthy variety."

"A healthy variety of... sex toys."

The singer was already unloading the contents of the bags onto the table. By the time all the bag were empty, the tabletop was buried under glossy boxes and plastic packaging all containing various stimulatory aides. Quinn sat on the edge of the couch, her head in her hands as she stared at the display out in front of her, while Rachel leaned back, one foot tucked under her, and browsed through one of the hotel's travel magazines.

"You okay, baby?" Rachel inquired from behind the glossy pages.

"Huh? Yeah. Fine. Just fine."

"What do you want to do tonight?"

"I... we..."

"Something on your mind?"

"Yeah. Actually." Quinn straightened and crossed her arms over her chest. "I just remembered. I have big plans."

Rachel lowered the magazine "Really?"

"Yes. And so do you. But you can't know about it until later."

Quinn was up on her feet and searching for something on the kitchenette counter. She picked up a piece of hotel notepaper with an address written on it.

She handed it to Rachel. "A car will pick you up at the valet at eighty-thirty. Dress to impress."

"Quinn, what is this?"

"A surprise."

"A surprise attack?"

"Possibly."

"Better than this one?" Rachel nodded toward the table covered in silicon and plastic.

Quinn smirked. "Possibly."

Rachel was down at the hotel valet by eight-twenty. She had no idea what Quinn was up to and it both excited her and made her nervous. More than once, while she waited for the car, guys asked what she was doing alone looking so good. One of them suggested she ditch whatever guy left her waiting.

The driver took her down Las Vegas Blvd to a small club. As Rachel stepped out of the car, she realized it was a strip club. Every possible scenario that could come out of this setup rolled through her mind. She took a deep breath and stepped into the club. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for Quinn, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Ms. Berry?" A large bouncer approached her.

"Y-yes?"

"You have a table up front." He motioned toward the stage.

"Oh. Thanks." As she made her way to her reserved seat, her cellphone buzzed with a received text message. It was from Quinn.

_Good, you made it.__  
__  
__What are you up to?__  
__  
__Wouldn't you like to know?__  
__  
__Yes. That's why I asked, silly.__  
__  
__You'll find out soon enough. Just relax. You're doing that tense shoulder thing.__  
__  
__Wait, how do you know?__  
__  
__;)__  
_  
Rachel surveyed the room again, but could not find her girlfriend. Because it wasn't a totally nude strip club, they served alcohol, so Rachel was quick to find a waitress and order a martini. Extra dirty.

The girl on stage finished her number and the announcer encouraged the crowd to express their gratitude with cold hard cash.

"Coming up next, she claims to be an amateur performer, but I happened to catch the rehearsal, folks, and she's got some hot moves. Ladies and gentleman, put your hands together for Lady Q!"

"If U Seek Amy" by Britney Spears began to pump through the speakers and there was Quinn, in a men's suit, tie, and fedora, standing at the back of the stage, her back to the audience. She turned and immediately zeroed in on Rachel and locked eyes with her. The hat was the first thing to go, as Quinn flung it directly at the brunette who managed to catch it out of sheer luck, since her eyes were on the blond as she spun around the pole. The jacket was already off before Rachel noticed where it had gone. Quinn wasn't wearing a shirt, but she did have a vest on, for a split second, and then it was gone, too. She was at the front of the stage, now, low and in front of Rachel before she was up again and miraculously making the pants disappear. Quinn worked the pole, red lace boy shorts, matching bra, and coordinating tie the only things keeping her from being totally naked in front of a room full of strangers. Her hips gyrated in sync with the song, her hands worked through her hair, and Rachel decided this was a case where hairography was totally acceptable.

The song finished and the crowd applauded without need for any encouragement from the announcer. Quinn gathered up her clothes and dashed backstage.

Rachel took this opportunity to actually breathe, since she'd seemingly forgotten how to during Quinn's performance. After a few minutes, Quinn was right there, at the table, dressed back up, except for the jacket. She straddled Rachel's lap and sat down.

"Lapdance, ma'am?"

Rachel rested her hands on Quinn's hips. "I think I need another minute, thanks."

"You need another minute? I was the one up there. You were just down here. Sitting."

"Oh, that was you up there? Now I don't feel so guilty about the thoughts I had about the hottie on stage."

"Did these thoughts have anything to do with your shopping spree?"

"Possibly." Rachel wrapped Quinn's tie around her hand and pulled her down for a kiss.

Quinn's hands gripped the back of Rachel's chair as the kiss deepend, tongues and teeth, breathy whimpers and light moans. Finally, Rachel pushed Quinn back.

"Sorry, right. We're betting." She moved to get up off her Rachel's lap, but the brunette didn't let her up.

"No. Stay. I think..." Her eyes dropped, then came back up to meet Quinn's. It was very similar to the way Rachel used to start a new song in Glee. It wasn't that she couldn't just jump into a song at any given time, but she needed a physical cue to herself that it was the right moment to begin. She'd focus on the floor, then look right up into the audience.

"What?"

"This isn't exactly the place I had in mind for this--"

"There's a room in the back--"

Rachel lightly smacked her in the face with the tie. "Shut up."

Quinn obliged.

"This isn't at all where I thought I'd be doing this, and I was planning to do this on Valentine's Day in a place that didn't have topless ladies walking around, but... I really cannot imagine my life without you."

"Are you asking me..."

"Would you?"

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "Rachel Berry... If this is some kind of elaborate ploy to make me want to sleep with you just so you can win some stupid bet--"

"Quinn, I wouldn't--"

The tie lightly hit Rachel in the face. "Quiet. And, you win, by the way. Because, right now, I have to go back to my hotel and have hot balcony sex with my fiancee."

"Really? And... really?"

A slow smile spread across Quinn's face. "Although, you still haven't technically asked me."

"Marry me?"

Quinn nodded. "Yeah."

Rachel tugged on the tie, again, to initiate another kiss. "Hey, now that we're engaged, I have to ask you something.

"What?"

"How in the hell did you learn to dance like that?"

"You've seen me dance, before."

"Not with a shiny pole."

"My eighteenth birthday. Puck bought me pole dancing lessons. He said he wanted me to have options as a single mother."

"Remind me to send him a thank you card."

"Just write 'thank you' on a can of Bud Light. He'll appreciate it more."

"You know what I'd appreciate?"

"Balcony sex?"

"I was going to suggest just getting out of here, but you seem to be stuck on that idea."

"I'm going to be until it happens."

"You really can't resist me, can you?"

"Remember that time we had a bet?"

"Yeah. What the hell were we thinking?"


	9. Surrender

_**Surrender**_

The entire ride back to the hotel, they kept their hands off each other. It wasn't a rule or a bet or anything, it was just a mutual agreement. Maybe because they both realized that, at this point, once they started touching, they weren't going to stop until one or the other passed out.

When suite door unlatched and they stepped into the room, Quinn reached out for Rachel, but the brunette moved further into the living room.

Quinn tilted her head. "What's up?"

Rachel smirked at her. "Keep the hat, keep the tie, ditch the rest." She glanced over at the items still spread across the coffee table and grabbed one of the boxes. "And put that on." The box sailed through the air and Quinn caught it just as she heard Rachel say, "I'll be waiting," as she stepped through the glass doors to the balcony.

"I'll be… right… out." The words had difficulty forming as Quinn's eyes focused on the package in her hand.

In less than five minutes, she met Rachel out on the terrace, but didn't move very far past the sliding door, as she was only wearing a hat, a tie, and… one of Rachel's purchases. Rachel was leaning against the table, looking out at the Vegas Strip.

Quinn cleared her throat and Rachel turned to look at her, eyes traveling all the way down and back up, again. "Looking good, Fabray."

"Come over here."

"Nope. You want this, you come and get it."

"What if someone sees us?"

"You're the one who suggested this in the first place. The deck chair. The table. The railing. With the city lit up and all the people down below."

"What did you memorize it, or something?"

"It was kind of hard to forget. It's all I could think about since you brought it up."

"So, this whole time, you've been fixated on balcony sex?"

"Maybe." During the exchange, Quinn had stepped further out onto the terrace. Rachel met her halfway. "Where do you want to start?" She grabbed the tie and pulled Quinn in, almost close enough to kiss her, but didn't close the gap. Her hand slid down the tie, then released the fabric and settled on the silicon appendage between Quinn's legs.

Quinn blushed. They'd had plenty of sex over the last six weeks, in multiple states and positions, at different times of day. But this was the first time they'd added something extra into the mix. When Rachel touched and lightly tugged on the strap on, she could feel it due to the very snugly and deliberately positioned insert on the opposite end. Quinn leaned in to kiss her, and this time, Rachel didn't back away. Instead, she pushed the blond back toward the reclining deck chair, until she sat down. Rachel climbed on top of Quinn's lap, her knees on either side of Quinn's thighs.

"I have something for you." She took Quinn's hand and placed something in it.

Quinn looked at what was sitting in the palm of her hand for several seconds before she realized it was Rachel's panties. As in, the pair she was ijust/i wearing less than fifteen minutes ago. "You're not…"

"Nope." Rachel shook her head and led Quinn's other hand up under the bottom of her dress, as if to prove her point. The blonde's fingers traces over slick warmth, but the brunette held her wrist so she couldn't progress any further. "That's kind of counterproductive."

Quinn looked up at her. "Don't you… want to be sure you're… ready?"

"Oh, I'm ready." She leaned down to press her lips against Quinn's, sucking the bottom lip into her mouth. Her body moved up and forward as she positioned herself over the erect phallus. Quinn's hands were on resting her hips, and when Rachel began to lower herself, the grip tightened. Brown eyes focused on hazel, fighting to stay open.

Meanwhile, the pressure on Quinn's end was enough to make her want to rock her hips. She resisted, at first, not wanting to just start thrusting away, since this was the first time they'd done ithis/i and she wasn't sure what the best course of action was.

But, then, Rachel was flush against her lap, her hand wrapped in the tie, her lips on Quinn's ear. "You gonna fuck me or what, Fabray?"

Quinn groaned as Rachel lifted herself upward and then dropped back down, with a grunt. "It's hard for me to do much if you're doing all the work." She reached back and grabbed the release to the chair back so that the lounge chair was now flat. Then Rachel was on her back, with Quinn over her, pushing and pulling her hips in a slow but steady rhythm. The hardest part of this entire situation was trying to maintain some semblance of control and not just start slamming into each other.

Eventually, though, that's exactly what they did. Quinn panted and Rachel whined at each thrust, hard and fast and with one of the brunette's legs tucked around blonde's waist for better leverage. Rachel's head was pressed tight against the cushion of the chair, her eyes shut.

"Look at me," Quinn said, between pants.

Rachel opened her eyes and tried to focus on her lover, but it was difficult.

"Rachel Berry, do inot/i even think about closing your eyes!"

She locked her gaze on Quinn's face and saw desire, passion, lust, and love. "I'm…"

"I know."

And then Rachel's back arched, her fingers dug deep into Quinn's back, her heel dug into the other woman's hip. "Oh my god, ohmygod." At that point, it wasn't words, anymore, just sounds.

Once Rachel came undone underneath her, it was only two more thrusts before Quinn came, hard, and collapsed onto her girlfriend.

When she was able to will her body to move, again, Rachel kissed Quinn's cheek. The blond smiled at her, and transferred the fedora from her head over to brunette's.

That's the last time either of them actually remembered seeing it.

Later that night, when Rachel was bent over, gripping the balcony railing with one hand and the tie with her other, as she gazed over her shoulder at Quinn behind her, the blonde's hands wrapped around her waist and the sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the space of the balcony, the hat must've fallen over the edge.


	10. All In

_**All**____**In**_

The following day was spent mostly in bed. One, because they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Two, they were exhausted (see: One).

Somewhere, between the caresses and kisses, the question came up.

"You wanna get married?"

"I thought we already had this conversation. And I asked you first."

"I mean, like, now."

"Do they do naked weddings in Vegas?"

"Probably. But I didn't mean with this second. I just meant while we're here."

"I can't have a wedding without my dads."

"What if we have two?"

"Typical Fabray, wanting everything."

"No, that's you, Berry."

"Hey, what're we going to do about names?"

"Can we decide about the wedding, first?"

"Oh, right."

Ultimately, they decided they wanted a small Vegas ceremony, just for them, and they'd let Rachel's dads have a heyday planning something bigger and formal and fabulous. Quinn had been holding onto the fact that Finn was bringing Madison out for Rachel's show and Puck would be meeting up with them. Now that they were talking marriage plans, it seemed like a good time to bring it up.

"They'll all be here?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise for your big show."

"And I went and ruined it with my silly proposal."

"Yep."

"Okay, then, I take it back."

"Since you didn't even get me a ring, it's like it never happened, anyway."

"I always thought you were kind of a materialistic bitch."

"What does it say about me that I'm turned on, right now?"

"It means I'm definitely marrying the right girl."

It was another two hours before they traded the bed for the shower. This time, there was no debate about showering together.

They were in the stall for less than three minutes before Quinn had Rachel pressed up against the tile, lips pressed to her neck, hand between her legs.

"Quinn…" the brunette whined.

"Hmmm?"

"If you… keep doing that… I don't think I can hold myself up."

"Good thing I'm here, then."

They managed to stay upright through the first round, but somewhere between the second and third, they ended up on the shower floor. It was an expensive suite in an upscale hotel, so at least they knew it was clean.

"Babe, we're wasting water," Quinn panted.

"You're the one who can't keep your hands to yourself."

"Sorry, I got engaged last night. I'm kind of excited."

"I know you're excited. That's how we ended up on the floor."

Madison and Finn weren't due in until the next morning, so Quinn and Rachel spent the day checking out the wedding chapels, looking for the right package. They weren't sure if they wanted something totally silly and fun or something somewhat serious.

Somewhere between the seventh and ninth chapel (Quinn had lost count and was getting hungry), Rachel squealed.

The blonde had been staring at the wall of photos featuring the latest batch of wedded couples and wasn't paying attention to the book of wedding packages that Rachel had been flipping through. "What?"

"Quinn. Look." The brunette tapped the page in front of her.

"At wh— Oh my god, are you serious? Really?" Quinn looked over at the man behind the counter. "This one. Can we book it for tomorrow?"

The guy casually glanced at the selection. "Sure. But we have other stuff, too. Like, fancier."

Rachel shook her head. "No. We want that one."

"Yeah, okay." He pushed his glasses up and turned to the computer. "What time?"

Quinn glanced at Rachel. "Oh, um… well, the boys and Maddy are due in at nine, and then they'll want to check in."

"And we still have to tell them."

"Right. We have to tell them. Maybe over lunch?"

"That's probably good, yeah. But then I have a rehearsal for the show at two."

"When's that done?"

"No later than four. It's just a tech rehearsal."

"So… we could do this at six? Then go to dinner?"

"Sounds good to me."

"You heard the lady," Rachel said to the man. "We'd like to have our wedding at six."

He nodded. "It's good that you're doing it on the thirteenth. We still had some openings. The fourteenth is booked solid. You'll need to provide your own rings and dresses, or whatever you choose to wear, the rest will be provided."

Quinn nudged Rachel with her elbow. "I guess that means we have some shopping to do."

"Should we shop together?"

The blonde shook her head. "Let's keep it a surprise."

"Okay, but we have to stay consistent with the theme."

"Agreed. Wanna shake on it?" Quinn held her hand out to Rachel, who took in then pulled her in for a kiss.

"Thanks for all your help," Rachel said to the chapel employee. "See you tomorrow!"

Once the wedding plans were in place, the women split up to shop for rings and wedding apparel. Several hours later, they were both lying on the hotel bed, purchases hidden away from each other.

"Planning a wedding is exhausting," Quinn sighed, reaching for her fiancée.

"Actually, the planning part was easy." Rachel yawned. "It was the walking around through ten miles of casino malls that wore me out."

"I got lost in one and couldn't get out for, like, twenty minutes."

"Aw, my poor directionally challenged baby."

"I'm not directionally challenged! They're designed to keep you lost so you just give up and spend money."

"How much did you spend in there?"

"Too much." Quinn snuggled into Rachel. "I'm sleepy. You won't hold it against me if I don't get into your pants tonight, will you?"

"I think that balcony sex left me with a good reserve. So, you're fine."

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

The next morning, they woke up in time to pick up Finn and Madison from the airport. Puck had left a couple hours ago to drive from California and would be due in around eleven.

"Mom!"

Quinn heard the voice before she spotted her daughter barreling toward her in the baggage claim. "Hey, kiddo," she said, leaning down to pull her into a hug.

"Where's Rachel?" Madison asked, peeking out around her mother's embrace.

"She was right…" Quinn glanced around. Rachel was about fifteen feet away, signing autographs for a group of tourists. "There she is," she said with a laugh.

Finn wasn't far behind Madison, but he hadn't been able to maneuver through the crowds the same way the girl's tiny body had. "Hey, Quinn."

"Hey." The blonde grabbed him in a hug.

Eventually, they pulled Rachel away from her fans (it was really just one group traveling together from Missouri) and headed back to the hotel. Puck showed up more or less on time and the group met for lunch at the Treasure Island.

"Hey, mom, can I go back for dessert, yet?" Madison asked.

"Hold on a second, Maddy. We kind of have something to talk about." Quinn addressed the whole table. "Rachel and I have some news."

"Holy shit, you're pregnant," Puck said through a mouthful of macaroni salad.

"Really?" Rachel asked, staring at him.

Finn grinned at the prospect, about to congratulate them, but then his brow wrinkled up when he quickly realized that wasn't really possible. Unless they were trying to get pregnant, somehow. But just them… that couldn't happen. Right?

"Are you, Mom?"

"No, I'm not pregnant. Rachel is not pregnant." She looked at the brunette. "Babe? You wanna…"

"So, the other night, I kind of… asked Quinn to marry me."

"And I said yes."

"YES!" Madison was suddenly standing on her chair. "MY MOM IS GETTING MARRIED TO ELPHABA!"

Several people turned to look at the girl who was shouting across the restaurant. A few of them applauded.

"Madison Fabray, sit your butt in that chair, right now." Quinn's tone was all mom. It was also part Cheerio Captain.

Madison sat down, quickly, but she was grinning. "Rachel, this means you're moving in, right? Or we're moving to New York? Oh my gosh, we're moving to New York!"

Quinn shook her head, amused at her daughter. "Sweetie, calm down."

"She's just excited, babe." Rachel took Quinn's hand. "I mean, you were really excited about it all yesterday morning. And the night be—" There was a small kick under the table. "So, we're getting married."

"Awesome," Finn said. "When? Summer weddings are supposed to be nice and stuff."

"Today." Both women said it at the same time.

"Today?" Puck nearly choked on his prime rib. "Is Elvis doing the ceremony?"

Rachel shook her head. "No, that would be silly."

Now Puck was offended. "Elvis is not silly. He's the King."

"Well, it's not Elvis," Rachel replied.

After lunch (and a bit more debate/lecture from Puck about the greatness of Mr. Presley), they did a bit of sightseeing until Rachel had to leave for her rehearsal. Before she headed off, Quinn pulled her aside.

"So, I'll see you at six?" They'd agreed that Quinn would get ready in the room the boys were sharing, just to maintain some semblance of tradition.

"Wouldn't miss it, babe." Rachel leaned in for a kiss from her fiancee.

Quinn gave her a wink and an impromptu smack on the ass once the brunette had turned to walk away.

Getting Puck and Finn to participate in the actual wedding had been difficult for the first five minutes. As soon as they found out what they were supposed to wear, both of them immediately warmed up to the idea.

And this is how Quinn found herself standing in the chapel lobby, watching the two men punch each other in the chest. "Guys, it's not real armor, it's a costume. A costume that we left a deposit on."

Finn pulled off his Stormtrooper helmet. "This stuff is authentic." He threw another light punch at Puck's chest, but it was deflected by the white breastplate.

"We should have gotten you the Wookie outfit," Quinn sighed.

"That would have been awesome!" came Puck's muffled reply from inside his helmet.

"Miss Fabray?" The chapel clerk peeked out of the doors that led to the chapel. "We're ready for you."

Finn shoved the helmet back on his head, giving it a knock once it was fully seated. He and Puck positioned themselves on either side of Quinn and as the doors opened, they escorted her into the chapel.

At the end of the aisle, Rachel waited next to the minister (Jedi?) and behind Rachel was Madison, in her own pint sized Jedi robe, brandishing a lightsaber (green, of course).

Quinn's dress was simple and white, her hair in a braid that wrapped from one side to the other. Rachel's outfit, while black and white, was less traditional, though very suited for this particular ceremony. Her hair was down around her face and draped across her shoulders. She wore a white long sleeved collared shirt under a black vest and a short black skirt, very similar in length to the ones she wore in high school. On her feet were a pair of black, flat soled boots that hit her around mid calf.

The ceremony itself only took about ten minutes and when it was over, they blasted the familiar John Williams theme through the chapel speakers. Rachel looked down at their hands, clasped together, then over at the small Jedi behind her, then to the two troopers (who were still testing the limits of the molded plastic), then back at the woman who was now her wife. "My dads are going to die when they see these pictures."

"They should be happy. It's way better than a lot of lesbian weddings I've seen."

"Touche, Mrs. Fabray-Berry."

"Hey, Mrs. Berry-Fabray, what do you say we get the troopers here to entertain the Ewok for a while, and you can teach me about the Force."

"Don't let her hear you call her that."

"Well, she's already too tall to be Yoda."

"She'd probably rather be Anakin, anyway."

"Don't give her ideas."

That night, while Puck and Finn took Madison to the bowling alley under the Excaliber, the newlyweds tumbled into bed and exhausted themselves (along with every science fiction related pun they could think of).

After something like the fifth or seventh round, Rachel collapsed against the pillows and pulled Quinn against her. "I hope you're keeping a list of everything you're doing, because we have to repeat this after the second wedding."

"Maybe we should have just recorded it."

"Quinn! I've told you before, I cannot risk a sex tape surfacing right now. We have to wait until my career needs a boost."

"Right, sorry." The blonde kissed the span of skin below Rachel's collarbone. "It's important to be practical."

"It is. Very." The singer tugged her wife upward for a proper kiss. "I love you."

A small smirk appeared on Quinn's face. "I know."

"That's my line!"

"Sorry, you married me, so half of everything you have is mine, now."

"You've been planning this since day one, haven't you."

"Also, you have to bake me cookies, whenever I want them."

"Fine, but you have to read me the recipe."

"That's fair."

"Naked."

"Every time?"

"Yes."

"Good thing you're rich, so we can regularly afford a babysitter."

"We can bake while she's at school."

"Some of us have jobs, superstar."

"And here I thought you married me so I could be your Sugar Mama."

"Hey, that's a really good idea."

"Quinn?"

"Yeah, Rach?"

"We talk too much."

"Yeah, we d—"

_end_


End file.
